


Hit With a 2x4

by bookwyrmling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Figure Skater Eric "Bitty" Bittle, M/M, Multi, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: “It takes a team to win a game.”It was Hockey Speak. Everyone had used it before in post-game interviews. None of them had ever thought to apply it off the ice until now.
Relationships: Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Jack Zimmermann, Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Kent "Parse" Parson, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Alexei "Tater" Mashkov, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Kent "Parse" Parson, Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 22
Kudos: 120
Collections: Polya Epifest 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blindinglights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindinglights/gifts).



**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“Alyosha, it’s so good to see you!”

“Erya, you too!” Alexei said as he lifted Erya into a hug in the middle of Logan. Erya winced at the hold and Alexei was quick to set him back down, concern overtaking excitement as he turned his attention to Erya’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, Alyosha,” Erya waved him off, “I cleared PT and everything. I just...am still getting used to it not hurting when touched or used. The surgery was a success and my recovery was quick. Promise.”

“But still you retire?”

Erya sighed and looked away for a moment before turning back with a smile. “I want to skate for the rest of my life,” he said. “I want to, when I’m seventy, still get out on the ice and not be in pain because of it. This is my third surgery and I’m only twenty-four. And it’ll be nice to make some decent money off my skating now, you know?”

Alexei wanted to smile with Erya, but it was hard to do when his chattering explanation sounded more like he was trying to prove a point to himself more than anything else. The torn rotator cuff from a bad fall at Worlds had been the worst injury he’d received, but his performance scores had been decreasing since his knee injury three years ago. He hadn’t made it to Pyeongchang last year and it hadn’t been a surprise.

Alexei had seen it with his own team, as well. When hockey injuries forced retirement before the player was ready for it. Alexei was just glad Erya had kept in contact with him during his recovery. He’d seen old teammates separate themselves from family and friends and close themselves off, lose themselves in their hurt and never find their way out.

Erya seemed to want to move on, was working to move on. Alexei wanted to respect that and be there in whatever way he could for his friend. “Yes, you go all the way to desert for skating when I am right here,” he teased with mock affront.

Erya laughed and smacked him in the chest as they finally turned and headed out of the airport’s baggage claim and towards the parking structure. “Except Providence already has a skating coach and I’m not stepping on Margie’s toes. Grant’s leaving Vegas for a spot in Crystal, that lucky bastard. He actually recommended me to the position and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to rub it in my face or what. It’ll be good to see Kent again, too. How’re he and Jack doing?”

Alexei unlocked his truck so Erya could clamber in as he threw his luggage in the bed before hopping into the driver’s seat. “Right now? Good. Next week? Who knows,” he said with a frustrated wave and Erya laughed.

“Those two never change, do they?”

* * *

**2014 - Sochi, Russia**

Eric bit his lip and watched from the bike as the guy on the other side of the wall dropped into another squat, his thighs bulging against his shorts and his ass just out there in the world, trying to give Eric a heart attack.

Skier?

He stood up again, his wide shoulders and traps and biceps showing through the sweat-soaked tank.

Snowboarding?

God hated him, so the man dropped down into another squat and Eric let out an actual groan this time, quickly flushing and dropping his face down to the screen of the bike to see his heart rate was way outside of his cooldown range. He took a deep breath in, let it out slowly and began to slow the pedaling down to the more moderate pace he’d been at before that first squat.

He lifted his head back up only to see squats guy now leaning against the mirror and looking at him. He smirked when he saw Eric looking back and Eric’s foot fell off the pedal as his heart jumped into his throat.

“You seem to be having some trouble with the bike,” squats guy said as he walked over to him. “Want to come with me on a cool down run?”

Eric was 18 years old, had been in Vancouver’s athlete’s village and was no longer a baby on the team everyone was trying to protect. He had condoms the Olympics were just handing out free and he didn’t have a boyfriend to worry about, either.

He practically threw himself off the bike.

Squats guy was the one who threw him into his bed, though.

Eric kinda really liked that.

* * *

**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“Alyosha, I can carry my own bags!”

Jack looked up from his phone, and the text conversation he’d been in since Tater had left for the airport after their morning run, as the door opened. He raised his hand in a small, silent wave as Tater and his guest walked in.

“Zimmboni, we are back!” Tater greeted with a large wave of his entire arm and a large smile as he saw him. Bittle, on the other hand, seemed to freeze, like a deer in headlights. It wasn’t like Jack didn’t know why he reacted like that, but it wasn’t really necessary and despite a few attempts at their few meetings since their initial one at Sochi, it didn’t appear to be something Bittle was growing out of any time soon. Even with Tater’s promised help.

“Welcome back, Tater,” Jack replied then nodded at Bittle. “Good to see you, Bittle. Flight go well?”

“It did, thank you,” Bittle replied with a confused smile. He wrestled his bag from Tater’s grasp and said, “I’ll just go slip these in the usual room, then…” He ducked his eyes and scuttled past Jack as he stood from the couch and walked up to Tater.

Jack grimaced and Tater slapped him on the back hard enough to change why he was grimacing before saying, “I’m sorry, Zimmboni. I try to get him to see you as a friend…”

“It’s fine,” Jack said with a shake of his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not all of your friends need to be mine, too.”

“But I think you and Eric would make good friends,” Tater pressed with a pout, as he had been since the two had met on rocky footing. “Maybe try calling him by his name? Not Bittle, Bittle all the time. He’s figure skater, not hockey player.”

“Talking about me, are you?” Eric asked as he stepped back out into the living room, bagless.

Jack cleared his throat and glanced down at the perfectly timed text he had just received. “I was actually going to head out. Have a few things to do before tomorrow.”

“Ah, Zimmboni!” Tater scolded, “Don’t run away. You stayed longer to say hello, after all.”

“And I said hello,” Jack replied as he shifted under Bittle’s curious gaze. “Anyway, those of us in town are having a barbecue on Friday. Eric, you should come, too.” And then, before the red could hit his cheeks, he waved to Tater and left, still not sure why his hands were clammy or heart was pounding, but liking the thrill at Bittle’s dropped jaw when he’d called him by his first name.

He giggled and pulled his phone back out to reply to Kenny.

* * *

**2014 - Sochi, Russia**

Kent had his face buried in Eric’s neck, drawing bit off whimpers and moans as he ran his hands along the warm, smooth plans of his bare torso. He was hard. They both were. Kent could feel it with each aborted thrust of Eric’s hips against his thigh and part of Kent kinda wanted to continue like this, play the guy until he came—Kent was pretty sure he could come untouched if his reactions so far proved anything—while the other part was thinking about if he still had lube and condoms in reach. He’d told his roommates not to come back for the next two hours and promised to air the room out after, so they had plenty of time, which meant that was exactly when someone knocked on the door.

Eric froze beneath Kent and Kent cursed at the bad timing before deciding to ignore it. Whoever it was would either think no one was here or get the hint that they weren’t welcome. Either way, they’d leave.

After several silent seconds from the door, with Kent soothing Eric back into a less alert state, the person on the other side started pounding.

“Kenny! I know you’re in there!”

Kent double cursed at the voice and Erya pulled himself out from under Kent and reached for his shirt, clenching it in his hands as he looked around the room for a hiding spot.

“He’s safe,” Kent sighed as the pounding continued, then shouted out, “Shut up, Zimms! I’ll be there!”

The pounding stopped, but Kent could feel it, Zimm’s glare at him through the door. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Eric.

“You cool if I let him in? He’s not gonna go away, otherwise.”

Eric looked panicky enough, still, that Kent put his hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I promise he’s safe, but, if you want, I’ll go out there and tell him to close his eyes until you’re gone.”

“Okay,” Eric seemed to finally agree with that level of assurance, “You can let him in.”

It was definitely the best choice. As it stood, there was no way to hide what he’d been up to in this room and Zimms had to be drawing a lot of attention from anyone on the floor.

Kent pat Eric’s shoulders then walked over to the door. “You couldn’t have picked a better time?” he asked in annoyance as he opened the door. Zimms eyed his shirtless, ruffled start with an icy blue glare then turned to shoot the same judging glare at Eric, huddling on the bed in his shirt and jacket. Kent moved to stand in between the two as Eric curled in on himself.

Zimms snorted and rolled his eyes, then turned back to Kent. “Call off your guard dogs. We can’t even get through a full practice without some sort of bullshit from one or the other,” he ordered.

“Guard dogs?” Kent asked with mock innocence. “Zimms, you know I’m more of a cat per—”

“Troy and Scapelli!” he interrupted with frustration. “I don’t know what you said about me this time, but—”

Kent glowered. “If they have a problem with you, it’s from your actions,” he shot back. “I didn’t tell them to do shit. You have a problem with your team, you can sort it out with them or with your own captain. Your problems aren’t my job anymore. Now get the fuck out of the American dorms.” He tried to close the door, but Jack shoved himself into the doorway.

“They are your problem when you’re the one causing them,” Zims argued. “We both agreed it wasn’t working. Why am I the one getting shit on by your teammates while you’re hiding away, getting your dick wet?”

Kent could hear the bed squeak and sheets rustle suddenly behind him and figured Eric didn’t take too well to that comment. “Like I said: their choices, their actions,” he said, stepping into Zimms’s space and trying to get him to back out. “Your problem, not mine. And I would very much appreciate it if you left so I could continue getting my dick wet.” His hands gripped firmly onto the door and door jamb as he stepped toe to toe and chest to chest and raised nose to chin because fuck Zimms’s few extra inches. “It was going pretty well before you barged in,” he pressed, half wondering how much of a rise he could get out of him. Would he get jealous? Would he storm off? Would he attack? They all sounded like good options. Kent smirked. “In fact, I’d recommend you give it a try yourself,” he suggested, “if you could manage to pull out the hockey stick you’ve had shoved up your ass since team selections long enough to give it a try.”

Zimms’s eyes narrowed and the blue went ice-cold as he stepped back into the hallway. “Fuck you, Kenny,” he hissed.

Kent laughed and stepped back into his room. “Already in progress, Zimms.”

Kent slammed the door in Zimms’s face and all the anger flooded out of his system. He fell against the door, pressing his forehead against the wood and his hand resting on the door knob. If he opened the door, Jack might still be there. If not, he could chase him down. He could apologize, say he’d talk with the boys. He knew they got protective of him when it came to Zimms. Apologies from Kent tended to remind him he had his own to say, as well. They might be able to patch things up. They might…

Kent let go of the doorknob and turned back to Eric. “Yeah, that was a mood-killer,” he said with a chagrined smile. “Sorry about that, man. Wanna watch some Netflix until things die down out there?”

Eric blinked, his eyes slipping back to the door as he remained cocooned in himself. “Who was that?”

“Jack Zimmermann. He’s a hockey player for Team Canada. We have...history.”

“I can see.”

Kent smiled noncommittally and sat on the bed. “So, Netflix?” he asked as he dug his laptop out of his nightstand.

“I’ve been working through _Orange is the New Black_?” Eric suggested as he settled in alongside.

“Perfect,” Kent agreed. “Season 2 is due out later this year, so I’m due for a rewatch.”


	2. Chapter 2

**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“Oh, Lord, is that what your schedules are really like?” Eric asked, exhaustion at the thought of it already settling in. “I thought I’d finally get a break now that I’m retired.”

“The season’s always rough,” Thirdy admitted.

“The longer the rougher…” Marty grimaced and nodded beside him.

“The longer the better, you mean!” Alyosha argued, his arms flailing until one settled on Eric’s shoulders. “Is best to lift cup!”

“We wouldn’t be playing otherwise,” Thirdy agreed.

Eric smiled up at Alexei and leaned, just a bit, into the contact.

“So what team did you say you’re working with again, kiddo?” Marty asked as he added a few hot dogs to the grill.

“Oh, I’m the new skating coach for Las Vegas,” he replied, turning back to the conversation. He was grateful he’d always been good at performing when his smile didn’t falter as Alyosha’s hand squeezed his shoulder then fell away.

“Another Ace!” Poots bemoaned—Alyosha had tried to tell Eric why everyone called him Poots, but Poots kept interrupting, so he’d just taken it at face value at this point. Hockey boys were a species unto themselves, after all.

“Another...?”

Marty laughed. “If it keeps lasting, the media might actually stop trumping up our games as rivalries,” he said as Alyosha tapped on Eric’s shoulder then pointed out Jack and Kent across the yard with some of the other players.

Jack’s arm was thrown over Kent’s shoulders as Kent leaned into the touch.

“They both seem to be making a real try at it this time,” Marty said with a soft smile. “I hope they figure it out.”

Thirdy nodded and hummed agreement.

Eric’s grip tightened a bit around his beer can as he slipped a nervous glance over to Alyosha. The smile on Alyosha’s face was there, but it was small. And bittersweet. He made eye contact with Eric then coughed into his fist, his face quickly smoothing over into his usual happy-go-lucky facade.

“Well, it just means more joint parties between both teams and there’s nothing wrong with that!” Eric finally said as he turned on his own brightest smile. “My beer’s just about out. Can I grab more for any of y’all?”

All four hands went up.

“Four beers and a soda for Poots,” Eric counted as he walked off. “Got it.”

Poots groaned, but Eric wasn’t going to be the stranger giving alcohol to a minor in a team setting, even if he was only a few months from 21 and could easily grab his own beer out of the cooler. Eric doubted anyone would seriously stop the guy if he did try.

On his way to the cooler, Eric looked back over at Jack and Kent, his eyes catching Kent’s. Kent smiled brightly at him and waved, but didn’t seem inclined to leave Jack’s touch. Eric thought of Alexei’s arm sliding off his shoulder and of how Kent Parson and Sochi had been a part of his decision-making process when he took the position in Las Vegas. He waved back then turned to his task, shoving his hands into the cold ice, fishing for cans until his hands hurt more than his chest.

* * *

**2018 - Toronto, Ontario**

The thing about you and your current ex having the same connections in professional hockey meant that you had the same summer training program. The thing about you and your current ex playing in completely different conferences meant that by the time he showed up for said summer training program, it had been months since you’d last seen each other and he’d started building up his off-season bulk and it was a lot easier to forget about the anger from the last fight.

Practicing together, like when they’d been teammates, building something together, running drills on the same line built up that same tension it always did between them.

“Can we talk?” Kenny asked first as he walked up alongside Jack to grab his water bottle.

“Dinner at mine?” Jack suggested as he put his back down.

They didn’t say anything else in the fragile truce of the moment. They would finish practice, take their time to gather their words and talk for real at dinner.

It had been the same pattern for the last 8 years. Jack knew he probably shouldn’t keep falling into it. Unhealthy patterns were what his therapist told him to watch out for.

But Kenny wasn’t an unhealthy pattern. He was just someone Jack had always wanted to make it work with, even if it took work to do. Jack grew up falling down onto the ice. He just always knew to stand back up again after.

“We can’t keep doing the same thing,” he said after dinner that night as they both sat in the living room, rubbing his sweaty hands together, “We just keep ending up in the same place.”

“Yeah, no, I agree,” Kenny said, sounding for all the world like he was responding to a question he didn’t like in a media scrum. He lifted his hat off and ran his hand through his hair before affixing the battered Aces cap back in its place—a nervous tick Jack had watched him pick up back in the Q. It gave him time to think about his next words...or to gather the courage to say them. “I’ve been seeing someone,” he admitted. Jack froze, thinking this might be a different conversation than he’d expected it to be, but Kenny seemed to realize how that comment came across as he quickly jumped to explain, “A therapist! For the last eight months. It started with the concussion, but it worked so I kinda kept going.”

Jack smiled and nodded. “That’s great. I’m glad to hear.”

“And in our conversations, I...I know I put a lot on you. You were my friend, my teammate, my captain, my boyfriend, my rival. My whole life ends up revolving around you and it fucks us both up.”

Jack bit his lip and nodded. He’d had similar discussions with his own therapist. “I just don’t know how to stop it…” he admitted.

Kenny gave him a wry grin before adding, “But not having you in my life at all hurts just as much and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

They sat in silence as they both pondered their options. How to be that person in each others’ lives without being each others’ everything. Without expecting too much and breaking down like the last five times.

“So how about we just don’t let each other become everything?” Jack finally asked.

Kent gave him a deadpan look and a heavy sigh.

“Hear me out,” Jack explained. “We can’t ignore our history. I’ll always see you as my best friend and my rival and my A. If we start dating and throw all of that back into the mix, things go wrong. But it’s not like we haven’t dated other people. And we don’t fight when that happens.”

“I thought the point was that we’d start dating each other again. This doesn’t solve our problem,” Kenny pointed out and Jack held his hands up to quell his concerns and ask him to wait just a bit longer.

“What if we date each other and keep ourselves open to other people?”

“...What?”

“We date each other,” Jack repeated slowly, “But we can also date other people.”

“You want to cheat on me? If you don’t wanna date, then…”

Jack walked over from his chair to the sofa Kenny sat on and grabbed his shoulders. “I want to date you,” he promised. “I want to make this work. And I’m not saying this will definitely make things work for us, but maybe if we don’t put all of our eggs in one basket, then we won’t make the same mistakes. I don’t even have anyone else I want to date right now, but I have a friend who’s polyamorous and it takes a lot of communication, but they make it work. And everyone in the relationship is something a little bit different to everyone else. They’re a team. Just like two lineys can’t win a game on their own, maybe we need another winger and some defense.”

Jack fell silent after that, letting his hold drop and giving Kenny time to digest. He took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair twice before putting his hat back on and wiping his hands on his pants.

“That...that makes sense,” he agreed, but Jack knew Kenny well enough to know he wasn’t completely convinced.

“And it’s not like we’d just date anyone anywhere without thinking about each other,” Jack continued, now that the biggest hurdle was over. “We’d always make sure to talk to each other and make sure the other person was okay with it. And we’d tell the people we’re dating, too, so they know, as well. And it’s not like you’d have to date anyone I dated or vice-versa, but friends would definitely be good because I don’t think I could date someone you didn’t get along with.”

“Jack!”

It was Kenny’s turn to grab Jack by the shoulders. He did it hard and shook him, as well, breaking into Jack’s explanation long enough for Jack to notice his racing pulse and the pain in his chest from not getting enough oxygen. He took in a deep breath and let it out slow and shaky, working through his body and forcing the tense muscles in his neck, his jaw, his back and fists and legs to release their tension.

“Better?” Kenny asked once Jack’s breathing had evened out.

Jack nodded. “Guess I was still a bit nervous about talking about this…”

“So it’s something you’ve been thinking about before, then?” Kenny asked, his voice small.

“If you don’t want to, then we don’t have to do it,” Jack affirmed, “I’m not saying you have to let me date other people. I just...think that if you still wanted to see Bittle on the side or if you and Scapelli made it work, then it might be good for you to have more than just me. And same for me.”

“Scapelli’s engaged, asshole,” Kenny laughed and socked him in the arm. “And Eric and I don’t really date. We just hook up and hang out when we’re in the area together and not seeing anyone.”

“Well,” Jack pointed out, “if you and he wanted to, you could still hook up with him even though we’re dating. That’s all I’m saying. And if it doesn’t work or if you don’t want to do it, we can take it off the table. And if we don’t want to date anyone else, then it’s not like we have to. It’s just...an option.” Jack also really believed it was an option that could help.

“I don’t really get it,” Kent admitted after a pause, “but it makes sense.” He moved to run his hands through his hair again, but faltered and wiped them on his pants, instead. “Can we talk about it more if it actually comes up?”

Jack nodded, even though Kenny’s eyes seemed mostly focused on his own lap. “We’ll definitely be talking about it more if it actually comes up,” he promised. “It’s kinda the point.”

Kenny let his next breath out slow before looking back up at Jack with so much hope in his eyes. “But we can still date now? Just us two?”

Jack leaned in to press his forehead against Kenny’s, glad he actually wore his cap backward like he was still a teen and not some vet in his mid 20s. “Yeah.”

“So I can kiss you now?” Kenny whispered, a smirk on his face.

Jack smirked right back, his eyes locked on Kenny’s lips. “Yeah, Kenny, you can ki—” They didn’t make it any further than kissing that night, but neither of them said more than a few words for the next hour until they said goodnight.

**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“Have you been talking with him?”

Kent hummed as he turned back to Jack from waving at Eric across the lawn.

Jack tilted his head back towards the coolers and Kenny realized what he was asking.

“We exchanged numbers and have been texting and talking as friends. I’ve been helping him find a place and get things squared away for the move, but that’s about it.”

Jack frowned a bit. “Is that all you want it to be?” he asked and Kenny bit at his bottom lip.

“I know I need to talk to him about stuff,” he admitted. “I hadn’t even told him we were back together...it’s just a hard conversation to start. I want it to be in-person.”

Jack nodded and gave a supportive squeeze to his arm around Kent’s shoulders.

Kent looked behind Jack to see Eric smiling up at Mashkov as he gave him a new beer and sighed. “But now I watch him with Mashkov and it’s even harder.”

Jack’s frown grew from confusion to concern. “Why?”

“He likes him,” Kent admitted, his eyes still on the two. Eric had turned to his own beer and the conversation the group was having, but every time Mashkov moved, Eric did, too. Kent knew they were old friends, but they existed so firmly in each others’ orbit. “He likes him a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at someone the way he looks at Mashkov.”

Jack turned to look, as well, and watched them. Kent wondered if he saw the same thing Kent saw.

“Well, they may be open to polyamory, too, if they are dating,” Jack finally said with nonchalance and Kent choked on his own tongue.

“Dating?” he asked, his eyes wholly back on Jack before he sent a double-take back at the other duo. “Wait, is Mashkov—?”

“I mean, he’s never said anything, but…”Jack blushed and winced, “we’ve had a few moments. I didn’t say anything because they haven’t gone anywhere and he still talks a lot about Vanessa from Channel 7 as his celebrity crush, but I guess it is about time I ask if you’d be okay with it if it did become an option.”

Kent guffawed. “Are you serious?” he asked before remembering where he was and dropping his voice so as to not be overheard. “That guy lifted me, in all my gear, from the ice with one hand last year. If it becomes an option for you, let me know because I’d let him rail me no strings attached. You realize how much strength he has?”

“And you think I can’t lift you with one hand?”

Kent rolled his eyes and Jack’s indignation. “You definitely can’t lift me with one hand.”

Jack moved in closer and Kent felt a thrill go up his spine.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Let’s keep it PG here, folks. Kids are here,” Guy cut in as he walked by with a plate of food from the buffet tables. “Also, fine for challenging Zimmboni.”

Kent blinked. “I’m...not part of the team?”

Guy gave him a once-over then raised one eyebrow at him. “Pay up, Parser.”

Kent sighed and rolled his eyes. “Let me know how much and I’ll Venmo. Snowy’s your fine master, right?”

Guy nodded and continued over to grab a chair and a spot to watch the kids running through the sprinklers and the slip and slide in their bathing suits.

“So we’re talking about this?” Kent asked seriously, turning back to Jack.

Jack’s smile was soft and reassuring and his arm around Kent’s shoulders gave a gentle squeeze. “We’re talking about this,” he agreed.

Kent took a deep breath in and let it out, as slow and shaky as he could. “And it sounds like we’re doing it?”

Jack dropped his arm from around Kent and moved to stand in front of him. He pressed their foreheads together, like when they were teammates on the ice and tapping helmets. A show of support and a spoken plan. “Let me know how your talk with Eric goes...and I’ll see about having a talk with Tater, too.” One of his hands slipped to the back of Kent’s head to hold him in place, his fingers knocking his hat off a bit and tangling in Kent’s hair. “At least figure out where we both stand with them.”

Kent nodded understanding and then laughed.

Jack pulled away and scrunched his forehead in confusion.

“You said we could use a winger and some defense,” Kent said through his laughter, “When we first talked about it.”

The confusion only seemed to grow. “Eric doesn’t play hockey?”

Kent waved that fact off. “But he’s speedy and he’s gonna be our skating coach,” he pointed out, “I bet he’d make a decent winger in a game of shinny with a quick tutorial. Not as good as me, of course.”

Jack laughed and pulled Kent in close to press a kiss into his hair. He agreed. “Not as good as you.”

* * *

**2012 - St. Petersburg, Russia**

Alexei had thought coming back from his first year in the NHL would be a relief. He could speak his own language with more than a handful of people again. He could hug his mother and father and brother. He could play hockey with friends in the KHL, and yes, they would rib him for leaving and yes they would beg him for stories of America, but that was all part of it.

He missed his mother’s cooking. He missed coming home to the samovar and not having people watch him like an animal for putting jam in tea.

One of his friends was getting married this summer, and it was promising to be a grand affair.

And it wasn’t that none of those things happened, it was just that two other things happened that made coming home a kick in the teeth.

One: 

The Falconers didn’t even make it to post-season.

Two:

“Welcome home! I missed you so much! Nine months is simply too long even with video calls!” Erya crowed as he jumped into Alexei’s arms and hugged him tightly. Alexei did the same, holding just as tight and burying his burning face into Erya’s neck until Erya began to smack against his arms.

“Now I get you want to show off how much stronger you’ve gotten over in the NHL, but my legs do work,” Erya laughed, his face a bit flushed. Erya’s grasp of Russian had taken some time and he still had this weird accent that marked him as non-native despite his two years living and training here, but hearing him talk in Alexei’s language while Alexei held him did horrible, painful, exhausting things to Alexei’s heart.

“Ah, but you’re still just so light, Erya, it’s like I’m not carrying anything at all,” Alexei teased against his own embarrassment as he continued to hold Erya close to him. Even with the gymnastics his heart was doing in his chest, he did not want to put him down.

“I grew three inches this year! I’m seventeen next week!” Erya argued.

“I grew two more inches!” Alexei smirked and tossed Erya over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Alexei laughed. Tater.

“Yeah, well, you’re already a giant, so I don’t see why you can’t just give them to me,” Erya grumbled, seeming to give up on his escape. It was probably a good thing because the last thing Alexei wanted to do was accidentally drop him.

It just also meant that all of Alexei’s torso, shoulder, back and arm that made contact with Erya, even through clothes, burned with awareness of the contact.

Erya might still be physically small, but he had definitely grown up a lot while Alexei had been gone. His shoulders had begun to define themselves and his face had lost a fair bit of that childish roundness it had held onto even at sixteen. It wasn’t all gone, but, then again, neither was Alexei’s. He’d changed the style of his hair, too. And his build, while still lithe from figure skating and ballet, had filled out. Alexei teased Erya and called him small, but there was a definite weight and firmness that hadn’t been there before.

“Alyosha, is that you?”

Alexei turned at the voice and raised his hand in greeting as Kolya and Dima started wolf-whistling at him.

“Oh my God, Alyosha, put me down!” Erya bemoaned and Alexei finally gave in and did just that.

“Oh, I was wondering who it was he was lugging around like that,” Dima laughed as he slapped Erya on the back. “You two are never far apart, are you?”

Erya laughed with the other two and it took Alexei a moment to realize he should, as well. It was a different kind of pain he felt in his chest, then, but he pushed himself through it with clenched hands and a smile on his face as he specifically avoided Erya’s own blinding grin.

He’d need to get himself under control about this or he’d end up royally fucked.

And not in the good way at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jack,” Kent said as he stared down into his mug of coffee. He’d invited Eric to Jack’s apartment for the conversation Sunday morning. Jack had a meeting with his agent and some errands to run which gave them time alone. “It just...There’s some other stuff I need to talk about with you, as well,” he explained. “And I didn’t want you worrying about it while trying to move.” He grimaced and admitted, “And also I was maybe a bit scared.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Kent,” Eric replied, reaching out to place a comforting hand over Kent’s own. “We were only ever casual. I’m still happy to be your friend.”

The hand fell away then and Kent watched it retreat out of reach. He shook his head. “But I don’t want to be friends.”

“You don’t?”

“Well, just friends,” he immediately corrected at the sheer hurt on Eric’s blanched face. “I...want to try actually dating?”

While the terror faded away, Kent couldn’t say he much liked the disbelief and disappointment it melted into. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kent.” Eric looked around the apartment and seemed to shrink in on himself, taking up as little of Jack’s space as possible.

Kent felt his heart squeeze in his chest and quickly set his mug aside. “It’s not cheating,” he swore, leaning half over the table. “Jack knows.”

“He knows what?” Eric asked, standing out of his seat. “You’re gonna break up with him? If you two are having problems again, I don’t want to be—”

Kent groaned and rubbed his face with his hands, sliding one through his hair in the end. “I’m not explaining this right,” he muttered as he leaned back. “Sit?”

Eric chewed on his lip with a concerned look on his face but eventually ceded.

“Look. Jack and I? We talked a lot when we decided to try again,” Kent explained, laying it all out on the table before him. “And one of the things we talked about was our tendency to kinda focus too much on each other. Jack thought polyamory might be a good solution. We can date other people while dating each other. We won’t make each other our everything because there are different people that mean just as much to us that fill roles we can’t fill for each other. And to be to others what we don’t need each other to be.”

Kent looked up from the table and his explanation with a beseeching, hopeful glance. Eric raised an eyebrow at him and Kent’s hopes drooped with his head. He couldn’t give up, though. Not yet. Not until Eric turned him down after understanding. “He’s a hockey idiot and compared it to a hockey team, how everyone fills their own role with everyone else,” he explained, hoping that would help, “but...as lame as it is, I don’t think he’s wrong.”

Eric was slower to respond this time and Kent looked his direction once more to see him staring thoughtfully into his mug. He nodded to himself then looked back up with sincerity and asked, “So you’d be okay with him dating someone else?”

“There actually is someone he’s interested in,” Kent said with a nervous laugh. “It probably doesn’t make much sense, but I hope it works out for them.” He scratched at the back of his head. “I was teasing Jack that I’d be up for a threesome anytime.”

Kent coughed and looked at Eric pointedly. “Or, well, maybe a foursome?”

Eric blushed from head to toe. “I highly doubt Jack would have that kind of interest in me. And I don’t even know this other person.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Kent disagreed. He thought back to the barbecue and the way Eric had orbited Mashkov and his smile fell. There was no easy way of tackling this part now that Eric had brought it up.

“If you’re dating someone else exclusively or need to talk to them first, then—”

“No! No, no, I’m not...I’m not dating anyone.” Eric interrupted, but even through the continued flush of his face, Kent could sense some heartbreak leaking around the edges.

“But there is someone you want to be dating?” Kent pointed out, his own heart beginning to break. He hadn’t realized how much hope he’d had in this going well, in Eric having expectations of him with this move to Vegas. It had hurt seeing what Eric looked like around someone he really loved, knowing it was so different from how Eric acted and looked around him. “And it isn’t me?”

“That’s not the case!”

Eric was standing again and glaring down at Kent with righteous anger.

“I was really hoping for when I got to Vegas!” he pressed, leaning across the table. “We’d been talking so much and you’d been so helpful with the move and…” His voice broke. His hands clenched against the grain of the table. His head dropped until Kent couldn’t see his face anymore. “It was pretty uncharitable of me, but when I found out you and Jack were together from Alyosha, I...I was kinda waiting for it to fall apart again.”

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t given people reason to think like that,” Kent admitted with a self-deprecating grin and a flinch. Eric was right. It was uncharitable, but, well, it wasn’t like Kent hadn’t seen Jack show up to the NHL awards with a girlfriend when they were on one of their break-ups and feel the exact same way. And it wasn’t like they’d broken up almost as many times as they’d gotten together.

Eric dropped back into his chair and looked beseechingly back over at Kent. “But I saw you two at the barbecue and it’s clear you really care about each other.” He brought his hands back into his chest. “I figured friendship would be all I could ask.”

Kent sighed and smiled fondly at Eric’s honesty. “But it’s not,” he said as he stood and walked around to kneel next to him. “You can ask a lot more.”

Eric gave out a hysterical laugh. “Apparently!” But he didn’t turn to Kent. “I just…” he started before biting his words and trying again. “It’s a bit of a rollercoaster.”

Kent fell back a bit. “And you have Mashkov to think about?” Rollercoaster, indeed.

Eric blinked and, this time, did look his way. “Alyosha?” he asked. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

Kent shook his head in disbelief, this time. “I saw the two of you at the barbecue, too, you know?” he pointed out. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone else the way you look at Mashkov.”

Eric’s entire face instantly flushed. Kent huffed. He knew it.

“Well...well, Alyosha and I have known each other for a long time,” Eric argued. “Almost 9 years now! He’s my best friend.”

Kent raised an eyebrow at Eric and asked, “Only your best friend?”

Eric’s jaw dropped then slammed shut as his entire body went rigid. “It’s not like there’s a chance,” he muttered, just loud enough for Kent to hear. Kent’s heart would have gone out to him with as forlorn as he sounded, but, instead, he grinned.

“Oh?” he replied flippantly, “But Jack’s gonna try all the same.”

Eric froze, his eyes going wide at the reply. Kent could see the surprise and the anger battling it out behind his eyes. Acting like this would’ve started a fight with Jack, but with Eric?

Realization seemed to finally settle in. “Wait,” Eric said with a jolt, “You mean—?”

Kent completely ignored the obvious shock and pressed on. “There’s definitely not gonna be a chance if you don’t give him the opportunity to say yes.”

Jack would definitely punch him if he were here, even just witnessing this.

“I...never thought of it like that,” Eric said, instead.

Hopefully, Mashkov would appreciate Kent’s efforts. He knew the guy wasn’t always his biggest fan, though Kent could say the same about Troy and Scrappy with Jack, but if they were going to end up as metamours in either direction, he wanted to at least be friends with the guy.

“Well, while I’m sitting here cheering you on with another guy,” Kent continued, watching Eric silently boost his courage, “I’ll admit I’m still waiting for an answer, but…”

Eric’s face immediately blanched at the reminder. Before Kent had the chance to feel that sweeping rejection again, however, Eric threw himself out of his chair and down onto the floor to be level with Kent. “I...I want to say yes,” he said as he grabbed Kent’s hands. Kent could feel them shaking, but he grabbed on all the same and Eric held back with just as much strength. “But I feel like I should have my own talk with Alyosha before I say anything.”

Their hands dropped, but Kent didn’t feel the same impending doom in his chest anymore. Eric’s eyes when they looked his way were bright and clear. “But I can keep my hopes up?” he confirmed, all the same.

Eric’s smile was soft and warm and flooded Kent’s chest and nose and the back of his eyes with pressure.

“You can keep your hopes up,” he promised.

It was only when Eric had left that Kent recognized that smile and why it nearly made him cry. It was the same one he had shown Mashkov at the barbecue.

* * *

**2016 - Providence, Rhode Island**

Jack looked up as his door opened and Tater hobbled inside. He paused for a moment at the sunken floor of the living room but then hopped down on his good leg and collapsed as quickly but carefully as he could into the sofa.

Jack brought him a glass of water. “How’d the meeting go?” he asked as he eyed the brace in concern.

“Is surgery,” Tater confirmed what everyone had been fearing.

“That’s a long recovery…”

Tater nodded, tossed back the glass of water, then shoved it back at Jack. He settled into the sofa and pulled a throw-pillow over his head.

Jack sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa closest to Tater’s head. “I’m sorry. You know the whole team’s here for you, right?”

Tater just grunted and pushed his face further into the sofa.

Jack had never been good at this part of leadership. It was probably a big part of why he still only had the A, not the C. Kent had a C and he was brilliant at the interpersonal part. Jack’s brain tended to freeze, however, and, not for the first time, he wished he could turn to Kent like he used to, back in the Q, and have him step in and lead the discussion. But they had fought last month and hadn’t spoken to each other since.

Instead, Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he gathered his words and decided on which ones were the best.

“We’re all sorry to lose you for the rest of the games,” he did admit. “We wouldn’t have made it this far without you. And it’s going to be tougher than it has been to make it the rest of the way.”

“Zimmboni,” Tater said as he peeked out from the sofa and the throw pillow just enough to glare. “This does not help.”

Jack nodded, but pressed on anyway. "When we raise the cup, you’re the person I’m giving it to, okay? So you better be ready to go out on that ice to celebrate with us. It’s as much your efforts as any of ours that got us there.”

Tater blinked at him, his arms loosening enough around the throw pillow that it fell off of him and onto the floor.

Jack smiled down at him. His fingers itched to reach out and smooth his hair down, so he let them go, enjoying the sight as Tater’s eyes slid shut and the lines etched into his forehead from the pain he was in smoothed out a bit.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Tater shook his head, declining the offer of a meal for what had to be the first time since Jack had known him.

“Sleepy?”

Tater nodded and Jack stood up. He grabbed Tater’s hand. “Let’s move to my bed,” he suggested and gave an insistent tug.

“Why Zimmboni bed?” Tater asked as he let Jack pull him up, anyway.

“It’s big enough for cuddling,” Jack replied, “And you look like you could use some. Let’s go.”

It took a heave-ho and a hiss of pain to get him standing as Tater worked with Jack, slowly hobbling back to the master bedroom where Jack helped him sit down on the California King bed.

“I want to be little spoon,” Tater said as he ran his hands over the cooling sheets.

“You got it, Tots.” Jack finished pulling the blankets down and Tater lifted his leg onto the bed as slowly and carefully as he could, propping it up with extra pillows before laying back. Jack slipped in on the other side, then, curling up behind Tater, wrapping his arms around his torso and pressing his front tight against Tater’s back.

They weren’t quite the same size, but it was close enough.

“Zimmboni, you are best,” Tater said with a sigh of relief as he fell into the touch. Jack got the feeling Tater did not get to do this near as often as he liked. He thought about the way Tater would hang off everyone in practice and bump elbows or shoulders on the bench. He thought of his cellys and how quick he was to bodily lift Jack when he’d returned to practice from a two-week recovery after an injury in a no contact jersey despite everyone shouting at him to mind the jersey.

“Best?” Jack asked, pulling Tater in tighter. There was a sudden possessive, protective pang that Jack could recognize, but wasn’t quite ready to name.

“Best,” Tater mumbled his sleepy confirmation. “Only Erya better. But he is not here.”

Jack smiled a bit in acceptance and hid his face in Tater’s hair. Tater’s voice and smile were always softened when talking about Bittle. Jack thought of the guy and how close he was to both Tater and Kenny and the way they had met back in Sochi and internally sighed. He probably wasn’t going to ever make up for making that much of an ass of himself. Reaching out and wishing him a speedy recovery after his torn meniscus and subsequent surgery in a rough landing at Classic earlier that year had garnered him a reply. Tater had winced when Jack had shown it to him, however, so the simple and polite, “How kind of you,” had probably meant a lot more to those who knew him well enough.

“How’s Bittle doing?” he asked when he thought Tater might have fallen asleep.

“Mm?” Tater questioned, apparently not quite having reached that point just yet. “Much better,” he mumbled after taking a moment to process the question. “Knee all healed. He missed Classic, though.”

“That must have been frustrating.”

Tater grunted in agreement. “Erya is biggest grump. Just like me.”

Jack laughed as quietly as he could at that, trying not to shake his body and risk jostling Tater’s knee. “Well, you are friends,” he agreed. “Have you spoken with him since the injury last night?”

“No,” Tater grumbled. “I’ll talk to him soon, though.”

Jack wondered if Bittle already knew about the injury. He hoped he wasn’t too worried. Maybe Jack could send him a message to at least alleviate any serious concerns after their nap. “He might have some helpful recommendations…” Jack admitted, his own mind and body beginning to fall under the spell of sleep.

“Don’t want help,” Tater replied. “Just want to be sad.”

Jack sighed in understanding and nodded. Sometimes you just needed to mourn. “I’ve got you, so do what you need to do.” He only felt moderately guilty for not including the rest of the team there, even though they both knew everyone else would do what they could for Tater, too, on the ice to win each game and off the ice to keep him a part of things.

“That’s why Zimmboni is best,” Tater said one last time as he pat Jack’s hand resting on his stomach and finally fell asleep.

Between the steady rhythm of Tater’s breaths pressing back against his chest and the smell of Jack’s own soap and shampoo on Tater’s body from his morning shower and the warmth of such a large and important presence pressed against his entire body, Jack wasn’t long behind. He did, however, have silent thoughts of, “ _ Maybe _ ,” when he finally did succumb, his face buried in Tater’s shoulders and hands gripping tight.

* * *

**2019 - Providence, Rhode Island**

“We need to talk!”

Alexei and Erya both froze at how adamantly the exact same words had come out of each other’s mouths.

“You first,” each said. “No, you!”

Another moment of silence and they both laughed at the situation.

“How about we start off with some tea?” Erya suggested and Alexei was quick to jump at the suggestion, dropping his bag in the entryway and making for the living room and the samovar—an electric one he’d brought with him his second year in the NHL because he’d missed his mother’s tea so much. It wasn’t quite the same. There was something about the old family samovar and the flavor it imparted, but coming home to a warm house with warm Russian tea and Erya’s jam waiting for him had done a lot to help fight the homesickness.

He didn’t use it all the time; it just wasn’t efficient. But he’d turned it on for Erya’s arrival and, between the two of them, it had been used daily since then.

Erya provided the cups and Alexei poured in the zavarka and diluted it with the water. He knew his and Erya’s preferences by heart, just like Erya knew his. He turned to find Erya bringing out a tray of sushki and jam from the kitchen. He’d baked the sushki his second day here, after Alexei had set out a bag of them from the Russian Market on the other side of the city.

It made Alexei’s heart feel like it was going to burst to see, and, when he noticed Erya’s shaking hands as he set the tray down on the table, he had to do something. He set the teacups down and wrapped his arms around Erya, enveloping his small form entirely and promising, “I’ll never hurt you. It’s not bad. I promise.” Just a bit scary. But that wouldn’t help the situation much.

Erya laid a warm hand on Alexei’s arm and Alexei suddenly realized he was shaking, too.

“I know,” Erya promised as he turned to Alexei with sincere, determined eyes. “Me, too.”

Alexei believed him entirely.

Tea was an odd experience, then. It felt too personal to start the conversation either of them wanted to have while they were sitting here, but, instead of the stress building, it lessened. Tea had always been social and relaxing when they drank together, and even know, when Alexei knew their entire relationship could be destroyed or rebuilt with the words he was about to say, that didn’t change. They did not speak as much, certainly, but the silence wasn’t the torture it could be with others.

And then Alexei drank the last of his tea, savoring the chunks of fruit that came with it from the homemade jam and tea was over.

“I met with Kent earlier today,” Erya started, setting his own empty cup aside. “We talked about...well, we talked about a lot that I probably need to talk with you about, too, but I think it’s best we take it one step at a time.”

Alexei smiled softly at the Russian. Erya knew this would be a conversation that would be easier to have in Alexei’s own language. “I met with Jack,” he cut in. “We spoke, too. About many things.”

Erya’s smile looked sad as his hand reached across the table and Alexei quickly reached out to hold it, wrapping his large hand around Erya’s smaller one all too easily.

“I never want you to feel like you have to do anything for or with me that will make it harder for you to go home,” Erya said.

“I love Russia,” Alexei affirmed. “I love my family and my friends there. But I’d rather make my home where I can be with all the people who are important to me the way I want to be with them.” He placed his other hand over the one he currently held, cradling it with careful reverence before grinning. “Besides, NHL can’t play in Olympics anymore, so, really, what is the point?”

Erya’s hand clenched between his. “I don’t want you to just laugh this decision off, Alyosha.”

Alexei shook his head imperiously. “I’m very serious,” he promised before bringing Erya’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I want to be with you,” he said as Eric’s face flushed pink. “I’ve wanted it for a very long time.”

Erya gave a full-body shudder that Alexei could both see and feel. His fingers twitched as if they wanted to reach back out for his lips. Alexei would have easily given in, too, but there was a sudden tug as Erya tried to withdraw his hand. Alexei did not let go, but he did allow their hands to drop back down to the table.

“Even if I’m with Kent, too?” Erya asked nervously and Alexei smiled.

Alexei smiled. “It’s good,” he replied magnanimously. “You’ll be in Vegas together.”

Erya smiled right back. “And you and Jack are both here,” he agreed.

Alexei flushed. He hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but Erya still knew, still wanted to be with him, too. “If you’re okay with it,” he offered shyly.

“Oh, honey,” Erya said as he pulled his hand from Alexei’s grasp and then tapped on Alexei’s shoulder to get him to move away from the table. He sat on Alexei’s lap as soon as he did and cradled his face. “I am.” Erya seemed surprised by his own answer. “I didn’t think I would be, but I am. I just want you to be happy always. If I can do that, then that’s wonderful. But if someone else can, too, then I’m just glad you found them.”

Alexei wrapped his arms around Erya’s waist to hold him in place. “I’ll still miss you every day.”

“Me, too,” Eric replied, his thumbs brushing softly against Alexei’s cheeks. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Alexei’s lips and it was everything Alexei had ever dreamed of and more.

* * *

**2020 - Las Vegas, Nevada**

“Hey, Alesha Keys! You made it in!”

Eric froze at the comment, against Alyosha’s hands on his waist, under his shirt, against Alyosha’s tongue in his mouth. Against Alyosha’s little huff of recognition of the words. Eric pulled away and peeked out from behind Alyosha’s bulk to wave his fingers at Kent who had just walked in and was now leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance, watching them with a lecherous smirk. “Welcome home, Kent! Is it that time already?”

Eric pushed a bit at Alyosha’s torso and tried to wiggle towards the edge of the counter Alyosha had set him on when he’d decided he could sacrifice dessert if it meant touching Eric and shoved the ingredients and bowl to the back of the counter. He wouldn’t budge now, either, so Eric could do nothing but smile at Kent with a pleased flush as Alyosha slipped his hands down to his ass and pulled him closer still.

Kent held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t mind me. It’s a good view.” Eric flushed, even though he knew he should have expected the chirping considering what he’d walk into. “Unless you want me to join?” Kent questioned hopefully.

Alyosha perked up and looked Kent’s way, intrigued by the proposition, but then groaned and dropped his head to hide his face in Eric’s neck. “I’m just get in…”

Eric wrapped his arms around Alyosha’s drooped shoulders and shook his head at Kent. The flight from Russia was a long one and there was no way he’d be ready to jump straight into a threesome after just getting in. Especially a threesome with someone new. Kent and Alyosha had been a newer side of their relationship, one they were just trying out in practice this summer. There had been a lot of talking done between the two and unloading of grievances with their shared history with Jack. It hadn’t been easy or pretty at times, but they’d reached a pretty good spot now. Eric still wasn’t sure if they’d end up dating, but he also knew for a fact that Kent wanted Alyosha to manhandle him like nothing else. Eric doubted Alyosha would be up for manhandling anyone with the flight fatigue he was obviously suffering. Even now, after a solid ten minutes of making out before they were interrupted, he hadn’t even hit half-mast.

“Don’t worry,” Kent said with a far more charitable smile. “We figured as much. It’s a long flight, right?”

Alyosha nodded.

“Jack and I have a date planned tonight,” Kent continued. “He gets you all season. Figure I’d make sure Eric here got first dibs on you for summer.”

Eric couldn’t see the face Alyosha made when he turned fully to Kent, but he could still hear the smile when he said, “Kesha, you are best.”

“Tick-tock.” Kent said as he shot finger guns and winked. “Speaking of Jack…”

Eric and Alyosha watched him head for the stairs and the office on the second floor where Jack liked to work and read.

Eric snorted and shook his head. “You two are such dorks.”

Alyosha turned back in his direction and gave a mock offended glare. “He start it,” he said and Eric laughed.

“Speaking of starting something…” Eric said as he pushed at Alyosha’s shoulders again. He still had a kitchen to clean before the pie in the oven was done baking.

“Let us get out first!” Kent yelled, instead, as feet pounded down the stairs just out of sight.

“I swear, you two!” Eric shouted out to them when they came into view. They almost looked disappointed they weren’t walking in on anything. “Alyosha just flew in from St. Petersburg. Nothing is happening tonight. Just stay in with us.”

Kent pointed to Alyosha still standing between his legs. “That does not look like nothing is going on.”

Eric rolled his eyes.

“Eric, you said the kitchen was off-limits earlier today,” Jack complained. “This feels a little unfair.”

“Well, I had stuff to bake,” Eric replied, “And, honestly, you try getting this guy to move when he doesn’t want to because I have tried getting down.”

Alyosha flashed them all a proud smile and Eric rolled his eyes and slapped at his shoulder before turning back to Jack and Kent. “But, really, stay here. I have pie in the oven and we can order in for dinner. It’s been so long since it was all four of us and, Jack, I know you have to head back to Providence in a month.”

Kent and Jack looked at each other, silently communicating for a moment before Jack nodded and said, “I’ll call and cancel the reservations.”

“Thanks, babe!” Kent kissed him and walked up to Eric and Alyosha.

“Sorry Ms. Keys, but I’m gonna need you to move so I can kiss my boyfriend hello, now that I’m not interrupting,” he said as he tapped on Alyosha’s back.

“Oh, you just kiss one boyfriend?” Alyosha replied imperiously.

“Well, I dunno,” Kent drawled as he leaned in closer. “I guess that depends on if the other one would like one, too.”

Eric watched them kiss, still soft and tentative as they continued to test the waters between them, and smiled fondly. He looked past them to Jack who was watching from the entry, leaning against the frame the same way Kent had when he’d first gotten home.

Their eyes caught and Jack’s smile grew. Eric’s heart clenched all over again, just like it did whenever he remembered how lucky he was to have these amazing men in his life. They may be spread out over two cities and one entire continent, but they grew closer every day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful last-minute beta, Faia, who also gave this fic a title.
> 
> Thank you to Ngozi for giving us this wonderful sandbox to play in!


End file.
